This Week in Milford

March 7, 2019

Breakfast At Mimi’s

Filed under: Coffee Cantina, freak hands, Gil Thorp, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Gil — tdrewhardin @ 6:02 pm

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Since Mimi has trashed the girls basketball season, I can’t think of a better alternative, as long as you’re gonna keep the natives restless without high school basketball, girls, non-existent, boys, on life support, than to open up your own upscale eatery. Let’s quit wasting time here eating chicken wings at Barney Rubble’s joint or crab legs at Richie the C’s place (complete with Richie the C on DJ, who promises he won’t bomb out-“And this is Richie the C on WDIG, poundin’ out all your favorite hits!!!!!!!! Next we got Danny and the Juniors with “At The Hop” but first Marty the Moon will be giving the latest update on R/Booby the Hitchhiker’s whereabouts!!!!!!!!!!”) . Why put on that leisure jacket you received as a throw-in if you promised to buy the seersucker suit in Mudlark colors (“Coach, I’m tellin’ ya, this’ll intimidate the refs-want that charging call in the 4th? Wear it. Let me do another alteration so your butt doesn’t stick out when you’re kneeling.”) at Milford Men’s Wearhouse if you weren’t going to go chic talking to a snake? Might as well hit The Bucket in your pajamas. Keep the fellowship fresh with Judas by keeping the table well-stocked with Mimi’s Restaurant Chips Key Lime, Melba toast crackers and brie, plus a white wine, especially selected from Milford Valley Vineyards, Mimi’s Special Edition, Straight From the Pick-up To Your Glass, Fermented To Quittin’ Time. As long as we’re going nowhere in basketball and I wouldn’t be surprised to see tomorrow 3 more panels of issues totally ungermane to basketball, the topic of discussion perhaps The Milford Hatchery was full of dead trout because someone forgot to pour the chlorine in the water, then why not go nowhere at Mimi’s?

 

Moon River

Wasting all our time

Talkin’ ’bout some slime

Who left

 

Two guys talkin’

And partly balkin’

Wherever Boob’s going

He went the wrong way

 

Gang, I can’t think of a more appropriate movie right now to bash the present circumstances than “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. Basically Audrey Hepburn’s breakout role with a great team working behind her. George Axelrod, who also masterminded “The Manchurian Candidate”, as screenwriter, the well-respected Blake Edwards as director, the novel written by the ever-shrewd genius, Truman Capote, and an all-star cast of George Peppard, Buddy Ebsen, Mickey Rooney and Patricia Neal. BTW, it won 2 Academy Awards, one for Best Original Score (Henry Mancini, the venerable composer having much to do with that) and the other for Best Song, “Moon River”.

The movie itself could be, at times, a bringer-downer. After all, we WERE dealing with the struggles of Holly Golightly, accompanied by that recurring bouncy music with an eerie twist throughout the movie. Isn’t that what’s going on here? The difference is that Holly repented at the end of the movie and we’re still at Mimi’s in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s: The Year Holly Golightly Becomes A Teacher For Milford And Has A Room Next Door To Ms. Rizk”.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Director for Walk to Find a Cure for Suicide Turns On The Gas in his Condo!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. Simpson-DAMN!!!!!!!!! I injured my knee again and I needed the rehab work.”

 

I mean, really. Who DIDN’T see this coming? You had to know when he was modeling for Macy’s in that jacket the other day that basketball was going in the deep freeze indefinitely. Does he always don macho man threads headin’ to the gym for 3-point defense? Noooooooooooooo, he saves that for special occasions like conversing with the one guy he wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole. Yup, always nice to look your best when headin’ to the snake pit. I always put on Faberge when I frequent the Milford State Park outhouse to find out about the roaches’ wife and kids.

“You look nice, Gil, in that seersucker. Where ya headed?”

“Oh, Marty and Peaches are stuck in their cabin at Mudlark Lake Resort again so I gotta turn the hose on ’em.”

“I understand he brought a hooker cuz Peaches wasn’t enough.”

“Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll need a fire hose for that Oreo sandwich. What’s the number of Milford FD?”

 

So let’s move on and work a little more on this concept. If he just puts on his jacket, assume for arguments sake that he is going to Milford 7-11 for a couple of stale long johns, a foot-long Slim Jim, and a cup of coffee, black naturally. When did you ever see the Marlboro Man dump Nutrasweet in his Sanka? This whole escapade smacks a bit of binge-eating but Gil’s stuck to his Weight Watcher’s plan for 60 years. He and Eisenhower were sharing the same scale weighing the chicken broth. And I admire a man who spurned all the Twinkies and Ho Ho’s.

“Ike, you looked uncomfortable talking to Acheson today? Too many Zingers with your Chicken Cordon Bleu?”

“Yeah, I wish Mamie would quit stuffing them in my coat. Hard for me to sit still talking to Mao. And don’t even bring in Nixon when I’m full of Entemann’s.”

 

NOW if he meets Marty Moon without putting on a coat and tie, then, given their relationship, they really ought to meet at the Milford Nudist Colony. You laugh but there’s more of a chance of basketball showing up there than what we’re seeing in front of us now. As long as they’re uncomfortable with each other, why not carry it to the nth degree? And really, we could have a 3-on-3 basketball tournament, Gil the director of the Tournament, Marty with the play-by-play, and anyone caught wearing Hanes is disqualified. Gotta keep it honest.

“Gil, no WONDER why you’ve got a lifetime membership at Milford Men’s Clinic.”

“What’s your point, Moon? Speak now or forever hold your mike.”

“At least I have something to hold.”

 

OKAY!!!!!!! It’s settled. When Gil puts on his formal attire AND speaks with Marty Moon, they are not there at Mimi’s to negotiate their respective baseball card collection. If you can trade a Willie Mays for a Bob Horner in your Birthday Suit, great, but otherwise, Gil and Marty are patiently waiting for the Filet Mignon Flambe avec Pommes de Terre Dans l’Immersion de l’Huile Cuisson sauteed in Beurre Plus Refinee et Cerises Frais et Creme while discussing the Cubs pitching this year (Robmize, don’t hate on me.) . Mimi is still learning the language.

 

Moon River

Wasting all our time

Talkin’ ’bout some slime

Who left

 

Two guys talkin’

And partly balkin’

Wherever Boob’s going

He went the wrong way

 

Moon River

This plot is oh so bad

Definitively sad

God knows

 

I’d pay a schmo 10 grand

To ram this swill

In a huckleberry tree

Waitin’ to be free

Moon River and me

 

And what in the name of Outdoor advertising is behind Mickey Dolenz? Nice of him to show up at Mimi’s with a Kinks mop but the focus is on Mrs. Hulk with her soon-to-be-nominated-for-the-Freak-Hands-Hall-of-Fame mitts. I can’t imagine any other reason than she is talking on her cell phone, not too many people look that cheery scratching the skin off their face because they forgot their Clearasil or the Wizard of Id afflicted her with psoriasis because she said his wife had boobs like pumpkins.

“Mimi, I don’t mean to complain about the turtle soup but do you have any Roach-pruf behind the counter?”

ZZZZZAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

Ribbit, ribbit

 

“…Holly Golightly eating stale French bread with mold on it with spaghetti made out of Nike shoe strings because the front man forgot to order Contadina noodles?”

“Gil, I think you better go meet Marty at The Bucket. You’re ruining business.”

 

So then we go to P2 where Gil really hams up his role, even if his point is well-taken. Then again, why go the Sharp-Dressed Man route when you knew who you were going to speak with? ZZ Top didn’t make the video so you could look like a stud with those 3 women who keep appearing and disappearing talking to Napoleon. Especially when he lost half of Russia and is about to approach Waterloo in another day. Gil, the rest of us dress semi-formal to be with our friends, not emphasize a point with both your hands as if you’re performing the Charleston sitting down, waiting for your Cerdo Ensalada y Frijoles, to Ivan Boesky. You don’t notice the 3 women not anywhere around? No, they’re not in the kitchen with Mimi preparing the children’s menu (“…no, just put one can of Spoaghetti O’s in the Fred Flintstones Chicken Pot Pie Surprise…”) . They only shake and bake when you look studly AND have some decency. You are the company you keep, Coach Thorp. Right now, your company is twisting your logic tighter than the pretzels on Mimi’s buffet table.

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Betty White. I have ALWAYS loved her humor. Many comedians and comediennes emote to get laughs. Not Betty. She is pretty damn funny. Her career has spanned 80 years and still going strong at 97 years old(!). She has won 8 Emmy awards, 3 Comedy awards, 3 Screen Actors Guild awards and a Grammy. She was producing shows in a male-dominated field and did it with such aplomb that you knew entertainment was a calling for her. You factor in the comedy shows she was in, “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”, “Golden Girls”, and “Hot-in Cleveland”, and the fact that they have been considered in the Top 100 of a lot of comedy lists and it’s easy to see why I respect her craft. Please join me in saluting someone who has made a difference in the world of comedy and television in general.

 

Moon River

Constipated tale

Basketball has failed

Blown dunk

 

We need relief from death

We lost ground

Bored until we’re brown

Huckleberry Hound

Moves faster than this

 

And then there’s the North by Northwest shot. If you’re eating dinner, such as Mimi’s Chicken and Dumplings marinaded in French Onion Soup, you might not want to scope to intently in P3. Some of you have stomachs stronger than Kaz pumpin’ iron at the gym but the rest of us better go back and see if Mrs. Hulk can maneuver her spoon dishing up Mimi’s hand-scooped French Silk Ice Cream.

 

Gang, go to it. We are getting a reenactment today of what happened when America negotiated with Stalin at Yalta. We at least kept West Berlin. Watch your back side walking out of Mimi’s, Gil. The knives are still on the table and you weren’t talking with Golightly about her day today.

 

“Gil, where are you going in your Birthday Suit?”

“Sorry, Dr. Pearl, we blew a late lead last game. Gonna shore up on the free throws. Where are you going?”

“I heard the Milford Nudist Colony was holding a yard sale. I need a table lamp for my office.”

 

“…Huckleberry friend

Moon, Gilbert, and meeeeeeeeeee.”

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February 4, 2019

Show Of Hands

Filed under: freak hands, Gil Thorp, Pissy faced Gil — nedryerson @ 8:04 am

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What else can we say about this drawn out sequence of Gil laying out discipline for a thing that didn’t happen?

I can’t think of a thing. We’re going back to the Mike Fillion mental health crisis, so buckle up.

So, what did y’all think about THE BIG GAME last night. Was it boring? Did the commercials suck? (Was it cool or totally lame that Jeff Bridges reprised the role of The Dude to order a Stella Art-toys?) Did the halftime suck? These have been the standard internet chat topics post Super Bowl for many years now. (I mean, minus The Dude…c’mon it was a little cool, right?)

For my part, I spent the better part of the second half watching Outkast videos because I didn’t get enough Big Boi. I won’t level any specific criticisms against Adam Levine and friends. I think they’ve arrived at a formula for these halftime shows where they make a big shiny spectacle that about twenty percent of the viewership will enjoy and most of the rest will hate so much that they’ll click on all the post mortems confirming indeed that it was THE WORST HALFTIME SHOW EVER.

February 2, 2019

When Your Loophole Becomes a Noose

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Remember bonfires? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Pepperidge Farm also remembers growing up in the country and going to high school in a one-traffic light town where everything you did went down on your permanent record in the court of public opinion, even in the days before the internet.

Without any exposition, we don’t know whether The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Paint were charged with anything or got off with a warning (maybe ’cause Deputy Dawg went back to huff the spray paint he made the kids leave on the ground). We do know that the blue mafia played telephone with Gil, who’s now fixin’ to make his already bad team even worse.

Again, without any additional exposition we have no evidence that a crime has been committed. Will Gil’s punishment fit the crime? Death Valleys until they puke? Benched for a quarter, or a half, or a game? Do they get kicked off the team just like B/Robby? Really, what’s Gil’s long game here? Kick enough kids off the team to forfeit the rest of the season?

The only bonfire we’ll be seeing hearing is the one the Marty n’ B/Robby Show will be firing up to burn Gil in effigy.

January 29, 2019

There’s No Such Thing As A Bad Boy. Just Bad Plots.

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Let me be SERIOUS for a minute. I agree with Coach Kaz that if something on the radio, TV, podcast, CD player, record player, electronic media devices, offends you or you don’t like what you hear TURN IT OFF. I have long been an advocate of this idea rather than let self-righteous hypocrites tell us what we can or cannot listen to.

Those who say that, for example, that Black Sabbath leads people down the wrong road don’t wash with me. I’ve been a Sabbie forever (“Technical Ecstasy” and “Volume 4” on the cassette player while balancing equations in high school Chemistry-the memories) and I have a medical doctor in my family. Those who LET another human being get in their heads have nobody to blame but THEMSELVES.

You have the power right within the radio dial.

USE IT.

George Burns was right. You may not be able to change the world but you can always change the channel.

 

Okay, soap box aside, was Coach Kaz listening in on the conversation? Was he smoking a couple of Lucky Strikes from that one guy’s locker? Such sleight-of-hand. Just sneak in before the basketball guys are done at the water fountain, hide behind the lost and found box (if you can stand the stench, Coach-me, I would’ve come clean rather than smell 3-day-old jock strap odor permeate through the pile) , wait ’til they all pass through, listen to them plot the Invasion of Poland, then pounce on ’em and tell ’em they better take Sweden instead. Not as many people and more blonds. The Swedish Bikini Team might be touring the country. Worth conquering, in other words. Just a suggestion. Just don’t send Enola Gay to pinpoint a billboard. Off limits. What would the UN think?

 

And I just FREEZE when I hear the word “loophole”. I can’t even imagine the scenario but here goes.

Our anti-heroes wind up skinny-dipping in some farmer’s pond with the cows on the other end eating the chili dogs and Jack they received when Ol’ McDonald returned that slab of tenderloin he hocked at the Milford 4-H Hoedown to MBW,  giving Roberto the swirlie of his life. Coach Kaz is out digging for worms for bait when he goes trout-fishing at Mudlark Lake and catches our anti-heroes (C’mon, did you ever see Captain America give Spiderman a swirlie?) in the act.

“I thought I told you to leave Roberto alone. So what’s the deal?”

“He accepted our invitation to go for a midnight swim. He challenged us to a fight after we said his mother advertises World’s Finest Chocolate off her pickle wagon. What could we do? We couldn’t run out on the road with the County sheriff patrolling the beat. We had no choice but to stand our ground.”

Like Coach Stuard used to teach me, good teams find a way around the  rules, if necessary. No better example than this.

 

Thanks to Matt Maloney, of Louisville, Kentucky, with help with the above comedy idea. Keep up the good work at your job, Matt. You work HARD and DEFINITELY represent America.

 

And don’t even go there in P3. Okay, the team is going to try to circumvent Kaz’s Mandate because, well, they’re kids. So you can’t give Roberto a swirlie on School Grounds. Fair enough. you still got the Milford Mall bathroom, McDonald’s, Milford Kwik-EE Mart and all you need is the key for the last one. Simple. Keep Roberto in the trunk, someone go get the key and tell them they had one Bucket Chili Dog too many, procure the Gateway to Relief, get Asshole Roberto out of the trunk, get him to bathroom before anyone  can write  more nasty stuff on the walls (“Roberto sits all broken-hearted/Tried to poop but only farted”) , stick in his head in designated Hell hole. Fun is sure to follow.

And if Kaz comes in unexpectedly for the munchies and has to have 3 bags of Doritos $4  Organic Nacho Supreme, what can he do? Okay, call the police but they weren’t on School Grounds!!!!!!! Not that I’m encouraging this but where the hell are they going in P3???????? This is The Sopranos getting out the car. Did they make sure Roberto had concrete shoes on while dumping him in Mudlark Lake???????? He just insulted the coach, not attacked The Don’s order. Well, finish the job, Sopranos, er, Mudlarks, and let’s get back to basketball. And keep your silencers in your lockers.

 

This is the city. Milford, USA. An average-sized town with plenty of activity, some not always on the level. That’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

It was drizzling in Milford. The weatherman call for The Rapture later. My partner, Bill Gannon, and I were assigned to the Domestic Fraud and Dismemberment Department, Adult Division. The boss is Captain Mr. Clean.

There had been unconfirmed reports of abnormal, illicit, and illegal toilet operations. SWAT team members had been investigating  restaurants and bars off of anonymous tips we received from our alert citizens. They traced the illegal trade to the Milford Lounge and The Bucket.

“So whattya think?”

“Nuthin’ yet. Still got all night.”

“What thrill do kids get from sticking a classmate’s head down the john?”

“Beats me. We did the same thing to the Japanese when I was in the Service. Spilled their guts right down to the vanilla sushi. Got one to say Emperor Hirohito was the AntiChrist rather than douse his head in a neglected barracks latrine. A PFC got a month’s KP cuz he forgot Latrine Duty. Geez, the stink. Smelled like Coach Shaw after he bombed Pearl Harbor in Gil’s WC. No wonder why the man cracked.

Gannon looks through his lorgniette.

“Joe, I think we got trouble.”

“And plenty of. Let’s go.”

We spotted some teenagers pulling into the drive-in of The Bucket. We thought nothing of it until we saw them get out of the car. Normally, they grab the speaker and order the usual teenage fare, cheeseburgers, chocolate shakes and what-not. When they didn’t tip the car hop, I suspected trouble. We STILL had to catch them in the act. Headquarters wasn’t going to accept arresting a punk because he tipped Carly the Car Hop a $2 bill nor because he spit too much into his A & W Root Beer Bucket Float. We had to wait untoil at least Carly took a smoke break behind the dumpster. There’d be no swirlies there.

“Hey, there’s nerdnik Roberto over there!!!!!” “Where?”

“Over there, stupid.  Eatin’ in that corner booth with those women he  called on the Milford Singles Line. Dang, he runs the gamut. One’s a divorcee, once married to Dr. Pearl’s nephew, one’s an old maid,  Granny Clampett’s sister, I hear, one’s 350 pounds after she got blackballed from a Weight Watcher’s meeting-”

“Cut the trivia, dude!!!!!! Everybody ready?? At the count of 3, let’s whoop some butt and give his head a home-made Bucket Chocolate/Vanilla Twirl.”

They grabbed the initiative before we could make our move. Fortunately, the SWAT team was waiting in the girls’ bathroom while Gannon called for back-ups. You never knew with these punks. They were liable to throw Bucket Orange & Lime Yogurt at you and get it all over your jacket with the Lions Club lapel on it. You couldn’t be too careful.

The SWAT team reacted swiftly and none too soon, throwing tear gas in Stall #3. Those punks never stood a chance. They came out with their hands out while Roberto grabbed a paper towel because the Air Blower was out of order. The smoke would be there for days.

“Police officers!!!!!!!!! You’re under arrest!!!!!!

“Don’t shoot!!!!!!!! Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!

Man, I get a boner to this day rounding up teenage ne’er-do-wells.

“Awwwwrright, Gannon, read ’em their rights.”

Gannon obliged, then asked one final question.

“Was it really worth it???? All you had to do was listen to another radio station. I heard Anderson Cooper is really down on Gil for lack of action or interest.”

“Yeah. We just couldn’t take any more. If we could snuff this mug, we could listen to Fibber McGee once again. His closet stinks but at least he makes sense. And he never criticizes the coach.

“Yeah???? Well, you’re going to share a cell with Daddy Bader while Roberto will still be on the air. And you still ain’t playing basketball.”

Eerie music cuts in, as it always does when Friday scores a touche.

DUM DA DUM DUM

 

DUM DA DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMMMMM

“On January 3rd, trial was held in the Milford Superior Court. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

Okay, Gene Rayburn is back, at the ready with another Match Game 2019 question. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought her ________________ would be great for R/Bobby to advertise on billboards.”

 

“On January 3rd, the Milford Superior Court found the Milford Mudlark Basketball team guilty of one count of recklless gang activity according to the Milford Penal Code Article 35, Section 21, punishable by probation to 5 years in the Milford Penitentiary, and 23 counts of plot inertia, according to Milford Penal Code Article 475, Section 95, Clause 103, punishable by Life Confinement to the Milford Gym or 5-10 years in the same, dependent on the degree of the swirlie.”

“The team now serving lay-up drills for 7 years until a parole hearing is scheduled in 2023.”

 

DING DONGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!! HI HONEY, I’M HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you don’t have to ring the doorbell. This is your house!!!!!!!!”

“Oops, sorry. I was so carried away with that deal at Milford Beverage Warehouse that I forgot I wasn’t at Kaz’s house for Scrabble and Bud.”

“So you remembered to return the Amish macaroni salad you concealed in your ’93 football playbook?Did Dr. Pearl ever suspect that you took it from the faculty loung3e after the Milford Teachers’ Beer Bonanza Celebration?”

“Hell, no, they had to cart Pearl off to the Milford Emergency Clinic after she downed a fifth of Jack with no chaser. Tod Andrews was the Designated Driver. AND she still thinks Luhm crammed it under his dustpan before he was scheduled to turn on all the Raid Defogger cans to get rid of the fleas. Caramel quiche has a way of attracting fleas, I guess.”

“Did the Beverage guy ever tell you where the food was going?”

“He said they’ll be taking it to the Milford Food Pantry. Somebody desperate enough and tired of devouring old Michelin tires like Wile E. Coyote will chow down on Road Runner souffle and not-yet-moldy potato salad. He also said the Pantry sprays Lysol on everything before E. Coli can spread. There’ll be no Plague in Milford, believe me. Wile E. can confidently chew Road Runner meat knowing the USDA enforces no lice on a dead Road Runner or Bucket Burgers that have been under the heat lamp too long. But I got my 24-Pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I’m happy.”

“And what about the Dolly Madison Zingers?”

“They didn’t lose color. And the icing’s still fresh. We FedEx’d those and the Oreos to a mission somewhere off the coast of El Salvador. I negotiated for 2 Patron Reposado Teqauilas but the Warehouse wanted more Twinkies thrown in the transaction to earn another bottle. Damn, if only Coach Shaw wasn’t off another Hostess binge after he shot that raccoon.”

“Darling, I’m glad there’s somewhere to go to dump your unwanted condiments, the ones that wound up in Nativity No-Man’s Land. Sorta like those misfit toys that Santa found a home for. It’s nice that Dr. Pearl’s month-old carrot cake found a home. I heard Bumbles is still snarfing it after Herbie the Dentist got him a new pair of dentures (“Herbie doesn’t like to make carrot cake”, Herbie doesn’t…etc.) . The cake was disintegrating in your glove compartment.”

“Shoot, they gave me a Coors Light Keg o’ Tall Boys for that and even offered to give back the carrot cake if I’d let them have it krausened.”

 

“Boy, we could go on with this Boswell on the Milford Beverage Warehouse all night but it would probably wind up in the ER with Dr. Pearl, so don’t take our word for it. Bring back that box of KFC Buffalo Fries you’ve got stashed in the attic behind Grandma’s organ and get a fresh start. And a fresh Michelob. Sounds like a winner to me.”

 

Gang, I apologize. I have been FRANTICALLY trying to get this posted after my original got erased again. Still in the Dark Ages on technical wizardry. Thank you eternally for your patience. You mean A LOT to me.

 

“Wait a minute, Gil. There’s no ‘k’ in ‘sabbatical’.”

“Whatever. It’s a hard sound. Close enough. You already owe me 3 Buds. Don’t run up a bill.”

January 16, 2019

WDIG – Like a Radio Station, Only the Guest Is Calling the Shots

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A convergence of souls is upon us.  Marty has tricked out his crate and added the busted Venetian blinds his mom had put on the curb to make it look like he has a window to the outside world.  He’s invited Ricky Bobby Robby Howry (aw, shoot, I’m calling him B/Robby from here on) over and is using his erector set to pass B/Robby a beer while he sips hooch from his trademark sippy cup.  That begs the question: is Howry old enough to drink? Just how old is Howry, anyway?

We only saw B/Robby in the winter 2014-15 arc.  For the sake of this post let’s assume he was a senior then.  Also assuming he followed a traditional postsecondary educational path, that would make him a senior at a four-year college so, okay, yeah, he’s probably old enough to drink.  I’m also curious as to where B/Robby is getting his money to bankroll robbyreport.com and the Three Billboards Outside Milford; if the richness is only in the words, we’re not talking about very much money.  Anyhoo that would require me to put more effort into postulating on his backstory than I have time to today.

I could also spend time thinking about how noble Gil will fight off this tag team (hoping against hope for a Herk the Mauler redux), defend his honor and discredit B/Robby in one fell swoop but, again, ain’t got time for that.  I will speculate, however, that B/Robby’s next move is not to try to take over Gil’s job but Marty’s, with the goal of becoming Milford’s King of All Media.

 

January 15, 2019

We’re Sorry, Marty Is On Assignment At K-Mart During The Frost/Nixon Proceedings

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Gee whillikers, Archie Andrews, MARTY RETURNS!!!!!!!!!! Gang, speaking of Archie, how long do you think Archie & the Gang would last as a Double Issue if Jughead Jones went to Milford Rehab Center for his hamburger addiction and was sentenced by the Rehab Center Commission to their retreat house out somewhere in the boonies whose property  borders the property line of the Milford Nature Area? I’m not expecting Jughead back anytime soon if he’s ordered a strict diet of milkweed salad and soy milk.

Or if Moose Mason got sent to the pen because he found out Reggie went all the way with Midge this time, in the back seat of Reggie’s T-Bird no less and got pummeled to death, let me repeat that, LITERALLY got pummeled to death. Yup, Reggie had fun, fun, fun ’til Moose took his one life away. Okay, Beach boys had better lyrics but I’m trying to make a point, c’mon.

Speaking of lyrics, if you’re wondering where Jimi Hendrix got some of his own tunesmithing

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

Heyyyyyyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

 

I’m goin’ down to shoot Midge, my old lady

Y’know I caught her messin’ ’round with Reg again

etc. etc. etc.

 

And we might NEVER see Jughead or Moose again and, if so, the Archie Comix Collection is going to cause the Dow to plunge, not to mention severely cripple sales at these Comic Conventions.

BUT MARTY???????? Welcome him and The Prodigal Son back to the fold. Kill the fatted calf and reopen the Milford Lounge, doesn’t matter which one you do first, one will be a snake who becames a lamb while the other will be also be a snake but turn into a lizard. I’ll let you decide who is who but I’ve never known lizards to have a taste for ground round steaks.

And what a way for Marty to make his grandiose return to the fellowship BY BEING OUTSCOOPED by The Daily Planet!!!!!!!! Marty, how in the world could you have not known that Superman had to call an ambulance because he had a severe case of the runs due to an overdose of kryptonite? You didn’t notice the wagon flying by your house? Welcome back, Kotter, even if Jimmy Olson done bunked your ass.

And for that matter, aren’t you all at least a little shocked that the station manager at WDIG isn’t tearing a new butthole into Moon? (Smacks head) Shit, I forgot, Thorpiverse is trying to keep things on the level and maintain a Christian Family Atmosphere that is Gil Thorp. C’mon, gang, you remember when you were kids and you went to the Milford Lounge, they had a FAMILY ROOM. Well, they didn’t want you on a bar stool sitting next to Otis the Drunk slobbering all over himself. Foster Brooks not covering his mouth after downing a Heineken? Where’s your manners, Foster? THEREFORE punishing profanity trumps the nature of the beast of Journalism. Share that greasy cheeseburger with your kid sister while there’s an orgy next door. It doesn’t matter if Linda Lovelace and Raquel Welch are bare-chested and performing questionable acts with members of the opposite sex, as long as it’s on the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line, we’ll keep coming to Milford Lounge for supper.

Can’t you see the station manager in a Father Knows Best heart-to-heart talk with Marty?

“If cub reporter, Peter Brady, writes an expose on WW III, well, Marty (slap on the wrist) , do better next time and fight to get to Omar Bradley’s office sooner even if it means slipping a 20, 5 times his allowance, or stuffing firecrackers down his pants

but GODDAMMIT, Moon, watch your language when broadcasting the Mudlarks!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Father.”

 

“General Custer, were you aware that 1,000,000 Indians are lying in ambush behind that hill?”

SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hey, watch your language!!!!!!!!!! You’re on the air!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

There’s a rumor that Marty got outscooped by the Milford Star at Little Big Horn because he was interviewing Mimi Thorp on the possible rule change allowing 5 seconds in the lane.  Just a rumor, I understand.

 

 

Shout-out to Rebecca Arnold of Louisville, Kentucky, for her courage to overcome many obstacles while in a wheelchair. Gang, she gets out and about and today she was enrolling in a class to make her a better person. Good for her. Gang, she is proving that she is always learning. That is what life is all about. She has a firm grasp on that. Keep plugging away, Rebecca. You have my admiration and respect.

 

Wait a minute, don’t tell me. Richard Milhouse Nixon has a great-great-great grandson who is carrying the torch for his great-great-great-papaw. Robbin’ Robert is taking a cue from Tricky Dick on how to sabotage Gil and still stay above board. Why not? Nixon almost pulled it off.

So in the next few days, or weeks (oh God) , we  will experience a tell-all story on a scale measuring up to but perhaps not quite Watergate.

Go ahead, Robbin’ Robert, tell I’m-just-here-because-Marty’s-covering-after-Holiday-returns-at-Wal-Mart all about your break-ins in all the sections of town.Why stop at billboards? Confess that you broke into Gil’s office and stole his recorded conversations on Dial-a-Slut and you were going to blackmail him later on. Better yet, HANG ON to those tapes and build up the drama, citing Equipment Manager’s privilege the way Nixon cited Executive privilege when he refused to hand in his own tapes. For all we know, those tapes may be something other than Gil’s lewd comments to some grad student on the other end trying to pay the bills for her Masters in Psychology by feeding Gil’s ego.

“Woman, I’d really love to sink my wim wim into your Grand Canyon and climb onto your boobs and-YOUR CHEATIN’ HEEEEARRRRRRRRTTTT, WILL MAKE YOU WEARYYYYYYYYYYYY, YOUR CHEATIN’ HEARRRRRRRRRRTTTTT, WILL TELL ON YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU”

Why be satisfied with Gil’s office? Bust into Dr. Pearl’s office and find out what she said on the Astrology Line. One can imagine (“I’m a Capricorn. Are they up for Administrator of the Year? I can retire early and not have to put up with Gil calling me at 1:30 AM, talking about my boobs. Doesn’t Gil get enough from Mimi’s water balloons? Tell me, O Great Gazoo”) .

Hell, bust into The Bucket after hours. Just grab a sizeable stone and chip away at the lock on the door, then break in and get all the recipes and trade secrets. A typical reaction might include

“They obtain banana split ice cream from goats in the Kashmir region?”

“Bucket Cheeseburgers are made from exported kangaroo meat out of Northern Territory, Australia? Straight from Darwin to Milford via Easter Island?”

“Bell hops are supposed to be virgins and are docked an hour’s pay for every child out of wedlock?”

“Mimi rejected The Bucket owner’s advances when she was a teenager working as a bell hop and got transferred to the Large Pots and Corningware Department where her duties were scrubbing the large pots and pans with Beetle Bailey and Zero, out of retaliation from the owner? Couldn’t have been all bad, Mimi bought some plastic teeth from Milford Novelty and affectionately posed with Zero in a group photo along with Beetle before she went on to College.”

“The French fries are really llama’s entrails from the Atacama region of South America?”

“Crunchy chocolate frogs are made from real frog bones?” Whoopsy daisy, Robbin’
Robert, you’ve stepped into Monty Python territory. Better get out of the labyrinth before the Minotaur comes to call.

 

With help from an anonymous friend who supplied the ideas and kept eggin’ it on, the one about people hocking merchandise at Christmas parties, a taste of which I gave you last week,

A more realistic scenario would go like this

‘MOON!!!!!!!!!!! You get outscooped by the Daily Blab one more time over Little Lotta failing her urine test for heroin at school again and it’ll be the last time cuz you’ll be out of a job. And where’s that divorce report over Richie Rich and Little Dot? I understand she wanted Rich’s gold-plated swimming pool in the shape of a dot. Says she has a hunkering for anything round. Eats hamburgers with Jughead because hamburgers are not shaped like trapezoids or rhombuses or ovids but DOTS!!!!!!!! Even her toilet paper is dot-shaped. Wipes her ass all the time with it. Charmin is comin’ out with a new product line as a result.”

“Crap, I left it in the trunk.”

“Your job will be in the trunk if that happens again!!!!!!!!!!! Now here’s your chance to make me happy. Seems that Howry is amassing a chemical dump behind Milford Foundry and trying to put the finger on Gil. A source was in a tree watching Howry finger-paint with toxic chemicals ‘Gil was here’. C’mon, less chatter, more matter!!!!!!!!!!”

“On it, Chief.”

“And don’t call me Chief!!!!!!!!!!!”

Marty looks through his desk drawers for his steno pad, opening his big drawer first which is crammed with 3-Liter Diet Mudlar-K-Cola bottles from the ‘DIG Christmas party. Ditto the cotto salami block, half-eaten, slightly moldy. He searches the smaller drawer above the biggie. Nothing but a Tupperware flat bowl of cole slaw, some mac and cheese in a paper cereal bowl, and a few Slim Jims, Jalapeno and Sea Salt, bent to accommodate the shape of the drawer. Oh, and 1,354,578 Smarties. Marty prays some kid will never come snooping and open the drawer and get deluged with Smarties and drown or the Slim Jim snake springs up out of nowhere and attacks the kid. Wouldn’t that be a lawsuit for The Shark to handle.

He then turns to his middle drawer. What a smorgasbord. Between erasers and paper clips and his yearbook photo he clipped out of the Milford HS yearbook, held for posterity at the Milford Library Archives section because he lost his own, are 2-for-1 Lays Potato Chip mini-bags, ranging from Bar-B-Q to Sour Cream to Poplar-Tree-Behind-Gil’s-Office-Smoked, 124 10-packs of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, 3-day-old pasta salad with turnips and Amish potato salad, reduced fat. Marty is about to indulge in one of the Snickers Fire-Roasted Peanuts Candy Bar when he feels a wedgie in his butt.

He yanks out his steno pad while eating Kellogg’s Special K Prune Formula that fell out of Fibber McGee’s closet and they both consequently share, using separate bowls of course. BTW, Fibber pours 2% while Marty has a hunkering for Milford Dairies White Chocolate Reduced Flavor. Different strokes for different folks.

A shout-out goes to Lakena (la-KEEN-a) Kraft of Louisville, Kentucky. Lakena, you have an infectious smile and I can tell you have the joy of the Lord. I thank you for encouraging my warped sense of humor. You helped set the stage today with your enthusiasm and that’s the way you approach life and SHOULD approach life. Geting up early to face the day tells me you are taking the tiger by the tail. It’s how things get done. They need ya in Heaven.

 

And does ANYBODY notice the pile Gil is throwing the today’s Milford Star on? It could be scouting reports OR it could be MORE newspapers? What if I’m right? The Milford Star and the Milford Enquirer has been getting the lowdown on Gil’s coaching career, or for that matter, HIS LIFE, once a week or EVERY DAY?????? I’m curious what the headlines would read that he’s been so nonchalantly tossing to the wind.

“Thorp Cleared In Sexual Harassment Suit With Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Spots A UFO While Taking A Potty Break In Outhouse At Mudlark Lake!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Said He Bitch-Slapped Chitwood Only Once!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil And Basketball Referee Break It Off After Suspicions Are Aroused!!!!!!!!!!!!”\

“The Bucket Denies Half A Roach Was Found In Gil’s Bucket PB & J!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Then there’s the medical term Gil and the rest of Thorpiverse is trying to throw at us, hoping we’ll genuflect in awe. Having a medical doctor in the family, this writer is not easily swayed.

“So Gil, do you think Howry has dopamin stored in his garage?”

“No, he sold that at a yard sale last Saturday. I heard he was trying to get Filion high on epiniphrine. You snort it like a cocaine pipe. You need a week’s supply of Scope to wash out your mouth.”

“Yeah, but I heard he swallowed a bottle of Triavil so he could float and finish his Robby Report on the billboard.”

“If he did, his side effects were nasty. You wind up farting nitroglycerine all over the road.”

“I heard differently. Moon told me he was OD’ing from Underoos.”

“No way. That’s what he was wearing.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to try to get Howry down. Maybe if I can harpoon his Underoos…

 

Dr. Pearl in a Parent-Teacher Conference

“I can proudly say that your Calvin is Harvard material. Why, here’s his board scores right here” as she hands the parents the Tupperware of celery and carrots w/ spinach dip to pore over that she retrieved out of the file cabinet.

 

At The Bucket, The Inspector and the owner have a war of words

“You’re going to have to take the bones out of your Bucket Crunchy Frog Shake.”

“If we took out the bones, it wouldn’t be crunchy now, would it?”

 

Long live Monty Python

January 10, 2019

The Billboards Are Due On Maple Street

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Gil, aren’t we understating THE OBVIOUS????? My Friend, you were just awarded Comment of the Year by the Milford Kiwanis Club. Wanta know who got #2? None other than Marty Moon for stealing Calvin Coolidge’s maxim “I choose not to run”, when Moon was asked if he was interested in the station manager’s job at WDIG after the present manager retires. Suspending people for saying “He plays like elephant poop”  and “Gil has a face that bears a striking resemblance to Dumbo’s butt” on the air can start to wear on you down the years.

Melodramatic??????? Really??????? I don’t know about you, Coach Thorp, but I’m beginning to like Larry, Curly, and Moe run the basketball team.

“Nyuk, nyuk, let’s run that give and go a little faster.’

“Yeah!!!!!! And no dunking on the volleyball net!!!!!!!” BOP!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Well. I was going to get that video lined up for today, “The Radio City Rockettes at the Milford Girls-a-Go Go Club” but the VCR ate the tape and I gotta sort through the spools and that’ll take some time. How ’bout a Twilight Zone episode instead???? I know, I know, watching strip to “New York, New York” accompanied by Coach Shaw on the jazz guitar and Gil on the baritone would have been a fascinating after-Christmas presentation but I KNOW there’s a lot of y’all that love to be Zonin’. Let’s Zone the night away, shall we?

 

I mean, really. Remind me to remind you that this could just be a front. Anyone remember “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?” Isn’t this just the same difference?

And remember Claude Akins, before he attended Northwestern and majored in Tractor Trailer Technology with a minor in French and went on to pursue a rewarding career driving Kenworth’s on “Movin’ On”, when he appeared on that Twilight Zone episode? Well, gang, guess I shouldn’t give the story away but he WILL figure mightily in the festivities today. He’s taking a break and somebody else is taking his seat in the semi.

“I’mmmmmmm Mr. Mooney and I have driven Freightliners beforrrrreeeeeee.”

Yeah, but looks like you’re having trouble getting it from 4th to 5th gear.”

“I can alllllllwwwayyyysssss call Mrs. Carmichael. She’s been going through the Swift Trucking Schooooooolllllllll when she’s not working at the bannnnkkkkkkkkk.”

 

GIL THORP AND CLAUDE AKINS GO TO THE SAME BARBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Look, Marty, I catch enough of your shit on the radio but this time you’ve gone too far. Some of my best friends watch Claude Akins on ‘B.J. and the Bear’.”

Mimi rushes up, barely missing the Lamar Outdoor Advertising billboard.

“Gil, every other comic strip’s plot has the lights on in its house except for ours. Let’s ask Billy, Jeffy, Dolly, P.J., and Barfy what the deal is. They live one block over.”

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Don’t let them go!!!!!!!!! They’re trying to escape with the rest of E.T.’s friends!!!!!!!!!! I knew you ate too much quiche at The Bucket!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t get suspicious until you insisted to the waitress to start adding Edam cheese!!!!!!!!!!! He’s not as macho as he’s been presenting himself the last 60 years!!!!!!!!”

“That’s not true!!!!!!!!!!! My husband just beat out G. Gordon Liddy to pose for the Marlboro Man when they had to find a replacement after the Marlboro Man died of lung cancer at our basketball game with Tilden!!!!!!!!!”

Claude using his French major to good use

“Arretez-vous!!!!!! Arretez-vous!!!!!!!!! Ne soyez pas malade!!!!!!!!!!”

“Claude, we’re not crazy but Gil goes to Fine Cuts. His barber died of a heart attack last year.”

 

 

Kaz’s earring is wired in gaudy

And Gil’s hair is combed out wrong

You better take off this masquerade

Cuz this stupid plot

Is too lonnnngggggggggggg

 

A little Procul Harum for those of you listening while you’re going down the elevator. “Homburg” is the tune, you whippersnappers.

 

BUT CLAUDE USES MORE BRYLCREAM THAN GIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Kaz, I don’t even use Brylcream anymore. That went out with the Hula Hoop. I use Vidal Sassoon Extra Hold Deer Scent. You, more than anyone else, oughta know when we hit the Milford Athletic Club what toiletries I use the way you’re always mooching for my Old Spice Watermelon Wonder Soap on a Rope and slapping on my Mennen Cool Mist After Shave behind my back.”

“Look who’s talking!!!!!! If you’re gonna swipe one of my jock straps, will you at least put ’em in your Maytag and wash the damn things, cold cycle preferably????? My doctor diagnosed me with Jock Strap Rub and it keeps me awake at night!!!!!”

“Kaz, between signing contracts for officials for Mimi’s basketball games and helping my kids with their pre-school pre-algebra homework, I don’t always find the time to get the mildew. I have used Lysol in the past. Did you ever try to call around for zebras for Mimi’s 5 basketball games????? I’m lucky to have 2 games under my belt so far. And I had to promise one that Rick would wash his referee shirt after the game.”

Claude intervenes.

“I’ll do one of the games. I have my Middle School License through the High School Athletic Association.”

 

Parents complain about YOU, Gil???????? Coach, from what I’ve heard, they pray 5 times a day facing the Mudlark gym. ANYBODY caught complaining on this strip will have his day in court for, 3-4 months at the max, but we all remember what happened several plots ago when Mr. Promoter tried to plug his nephew and his singing talent. He had his nephew AND Gil on the ropes until the script called for Dad to come in and clean things up. We could have used Santa Claus, Barney Fife, Don Rickles, Ed McMahon to run Mr. Promoter out of town but that’s pressing our luck if we want to make restoring your status half-way believable.

“And now, HEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE’SSSSSSSS GIL!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Thanks, Ed, good to be restored to the strip. Guess one shitty apple doesn’t spoil the punch. It’s nice to know all the parents and Doc’s band still support me.”

No.

 

 

 

 

MIMI COACHES A BIDDY BALL SCHEDULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kaz’s girlfriend and Mimi at each other’s throats

“I never put that billboard up but if you’d play some REAL teams instead of those ones you phone out of the Milford Yellow Pages under ‘Social Organizations’, you’d have a couple of championships under your belt, Girl.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one to sprinkle extra garlic on the Texas Toast Tomato Souffle when the recipe called for paprika. You could’ve caused a white rhino to sneeze his horn off the way you threw your ingredients on the baking pan.”

“Ladies, ladies, now take it easy. There’s no need to fuss at each other. Just cool down and eat another slice of Texas toast. And pass the pimento peppers.”

Claude takes a bite.

“Ummmmmmm, good!!!!!! Where’d you find the recipe?”

“Oh, my great-grandmother baked them for the GI’s when she was a WAC, she-”

BBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Sorry, Ladies. Anybody got a Tums?”

“PHEWWWW, Claude, you’re gonna start a riot if you don’t get back on that spaceship with Gazoo.”

 

 

The funky-looking tree behind Gil saying “Hi Mom” is due in Gil’s office on Maple Street.

‘Nuff said.

 

 

 

MARTY MOON STAPLES HIS GOATEE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE RAN OUT OF EPOXY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Peaches, that was a pretty low blow. I know I may have a flat tire when we go to bed that needs to be pumped up to at least 35 pounds PSI but leave my Leon Trotsky look alone. He’s my idol. In fact, Mr. Mooney is trying to sport one just like this to intimidate Lucy Carmichael into working faster.”

“Darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yeah, you need a Breathalyzer Test done on your wim-wim but I don’t even have a stapler. You’re just being your usual paranoic self. Happiness is so unreal and love you definitely cannot feel, not with that steroid-starving specimen.”

“Claude, isn’t this your time to intervene? The Twilight Zone is about to end and Rod Serling is due anytime now to step to the plate.”

“Marty, you suck. Ain’t no way I’m standing up for a guy who skipped his group therapy session at the Milford Men’s Clinic. I’m shovin’ off in my truck after Will is done showering in the cab.”

 

Gang, raise your hand if you’re tired of the North By Northwest shot in P3. Don’t you just love the Transitive Property of Equality being employed while Cary Grant is hanging off of Kaz’s left nostril? Don’t think Hitchcock was THAT innovative.

So let’s go ahead and work out the logic while Hitchcock devises a way for Cary Grant to get down (“We could try an escalator. It worked when ELO did ‘Xanadu’. Think of the majesty and grandiloquence of the concept.” “YEAH!!!!!!! THAT’S IT!!!!!!!! Anybody have Jeff Lynne’s number?”) .

 

Only smarmy pricks who went to the DeVry Institute to major in Refrigerator Electronics because a Milford High School diploma was only going to get you a job at the Milford 7-11 can afford to stage malicious billboard messages.

Bobby Howry a/k/a Robert Howry a/k/a Claude Akins’ Evil Twin is a smarmy prick who went to the DeVry Institute to major in Refrigerator Technology because a Milford High School diploma was only going to get you a job at the Milford 7-11.

Quod Erat Demonstratum

Bobby Howry a/k/a Robert Howry a/k/a Claude Akins’ Evil Twin can afford to stage malicious billboard messages.

 

I think we have narrowed down our culprit. We know does not refer to Felix the Cat. Don’t bother. I checked.

 

DR. PEARL DOES HER SOPHOMORE ATTENDANCE REPORTS FOR JANUARY IN THE RAW!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ms. Rizk, I know I’ve been encouraging you to get your head out of that typewriter but honestly, did you have to resort to desperate measures to get a little sunshine?????? You ever try to go to the Milford Tanning Clinic?????? You’d be browner and my reputation would be intact.”

“Mrs. Clampett, I have no clue what you’re talking about. If you would have backed me when I had that run-in with Beaudry’s parents after I’d flunked him, there’d be no need for this conversation. Why would I waste my time insulting you on a billboard when I can say to your face that Mrs. Butterworth and you put fillers in their bras?”

“WELL!!!!!! Sonny-”

“Claude, ma’am.”

“Sonny, Claude, Red Sovine, whatever, I just want to get a Honeywell Word Processor and smash her head!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, don’t do that. Mz. Rizk, I’m sorry, I gotta call it like I see it. I’m getting erect for Granny Clampett right now. Her beehive and her false bicuspids are just sending blood through my dick. No need for an ED commercial here. Would you mind leaving the office?”

“Oh, Claude, you say the sexiest things. So you graduated from Northwestern…”

 

Gang, some of you have already commented away and I thank you MIGHTILY for the support and the discussion has been TERRIFIC so far. If ya wanna jump in, have at it. Democracy works, gang. Keep it going so we ALL can breathe.

 

“Wow, Gazoo, you were right. Just put up a few billboards and the next thing you know, the Governor has to call out the Guard on Milford.”

“Yes, yes, my slinky friend. I used the same technique in Bedrock. When I put up a sign that said FRED FLINTSTONE AND MR. SLATE ARE IN A SAME SEX RELATIONSHIP AT THE BEDROCK QUARRY, Barney and Fred were shooting their air-powered rifles at each other in their respective backyards. And Bedrock shared a similar fate with Macchu Pichu.”

“Looks to me like Coach Thorp will get voted out by the survivors and that Kaz will move to West Beverly Hills High School where Dylan Mckay will be his only problem child. And he doesn’t even play basketball.”

“Oh, Coach Thorp is a dum dum. I’ve been telling Dr. Pearl that for years. Maybe now she’ll listen. Want to go for a spin in my UFO? They have a great sushi restaurant on Neptune.”

 

I SHOT COACH SHAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

signed

http://www.anonymouspsychomegalomaniac.com

 

“I got a run to Salt Lake City and Will’s been driving for 16 hours!!!!!!!!! One intervention at a time!!!!!!!!!!!! You hold off Freddy Krueger and Coach Shaw until I get back, goddammmit!!!!!!!!!”

January 9, 2019

In Milford It’s Still December

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Now we know why story arcs in this strip run longer than their real-life seasonal counterparts. Check out the calendar on the wall behind Kaz; while we’re more than a week into January, in Milford it’s still December.

That’s not the only evidence that Milford is behind the times, even if it’s not quite the “1959 with cell phones” we often describe it as being.  I mean, look, they’re only on Billboard 3.0?  They haven’t even gotten to Billboard 95 or NT?  The rest of the world has been on Billboard 10 for some time now.  Fifteen-year-old Chevy Monte Carlos still ply the roads, their flanks slowly turning into powder.  (Come to think of it, that’s not out of the ordinary in the Upper Midwest.)  Newspapermen still call their bosses “Chief” Jimmy Olsen style, even while grooming their beards, though unlike Perry White the editors in Milford don’t seem to mind.

Is Kaz showing Gil a photo of Billboard 3.0 Kelly sent him, or has he “called up” robbyreport.com?  As Ned alluded to on Monday, none of us here at TWIM have yet to buy robbyreport.com and direct it here (though GoDaddy would be willing to negotiate to have its owner sell it to you – thanks for the update, Ned :-) ), but that would require effort on our parts.  Maybe we should do a GoFundMe? Let us know in the comments.

 

 

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